


Springtime for the Grim Reaper

by orc



Category: Hajime no Ippo | Fighting Spirit
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Ippo and Kumi get together too how sweet, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13424835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orc/pseuds/orc
Summary: Sometimes the past comes back in ways you don't expect. Mashiba, well, he thinks his past should stay where it is. Fate's a funny thing though, and it seems like it won't let him continue without confronting his. But maybe, just maybe, it'll be good for him.Also it might distract him long enough Kumi can actually get a date with Ippo.(Rated for language, rating will be raised later if/when smut happens)





	1. The First Chance Encounter

A lone truck drove along the narrow side-streets of a Tokyo suburb. Inside, its lone passenger was busy contemplating the universe in complete silence.

Mashiba didn’t like working alone, if only for the simple reason it meant he had to be the one to walk up to the customer’s door, put on his best customer service face (which, incidentally, was abysmal), and get their damn seal which always took way longer than it should. With someone else on the route with him, all he had to do was drive up, wait for the other guy to make the delivery, contemplate just driving off and letting the annoying sap that kept trying to make small talk walk home, then make sure not to hit anything as he was pulling away. Nice and simple.

Being left to do a two-person job alone really pissed him off.

But, on the upside, he didn’t have to deal with forced small talk.

Mashiba unclicked his seat belt and grabbed the box from the back he needed. As much as he’d like to just throw the package on the doorstep and call it a day… well, even with how much leeway he got from his boss, he’d get much more than just a stern scolding. So, he tucked the box and his clipboard under one arm and made his way up to the second floor of the apartment building. The balcony that connected the various apartments was clean, and from behind the off-white doors he could hear the sound of the residents’ day-to-day lives. If he had to label it, he’d call it peaceful, even with someone vacuuming with what sounded like a lawnmower.

He rapped at the door, once, twice, thrice. And then waited. And waited. God, how did the other guys do it, about fifteen seconds in and he was already wondering if he should just leave the package on their doorstep. He decided in another fifteen seconds that it wasn’t worth the repercussions. And then another fifteen seconds and he was reconsidering.

“Coming! Coming!” came muffled from the other side of the door. Mashiba’s shoulders relaxed. At least someone was home. Judging by the voice, it was a woman, probably a housewife by his guess. He shifted his weight, grabbing the clipboard so he could look professional before she opened the door. “First impressions matter”, or some shit like that. It was a while before she actually got to the door, which annoyed him. Shouldn't she, whoever she is, know she was going to have a package delivered today?

As soon as she opened the door she was apologizing, before he could even start his script. “I’m so, so, so, sosososo sorry! I was on the phone and I just couldn’t hang up! I’m so sorry, I’m sure you’re on a tight schedule and all that!”

As she was explaining herself, Mashiba was able to get a pretty good look at her from under the brim of his company-issued hat. While Mashiba had better things to worry about than other people’s appearances, especially random customers, even he had to admit she wasn’t bad looking. She had long, black hair, halfway between being brushed and being properly styled, framing her round face well. If he had to guess, he'd say she was about the same age as him, maybe a year or two younger. It was only after his gaze flickered back up to her eyes that he realized that she was staring at him, large hazel eyes underneath a brow knit with confusion.

His first thought was ‘oh no, I knocked on the wrong door and she’s confused as hell why some bastard with a random package is staring at her.’ Mashiba swallowed, his throat going dry for a second. Keep cool, there were way scarier things in the world than a confused housewife. He opened his mouth to start his script, but she got her words out before he could even recall the first word.

“M…Mashiba-kun…?”

He just stared at her, silent. How the hell did she know his name? He didn’t have a clue who the hell she was. He had a pretty distinctive face, so her recognizing him wasn’t that surprising. He had an ugly mug that not many could forget, and if there was another guy running around Tokyo looking like him he felt sorry for the poor bastard.

Still, Mashiba couldn’t pin down who the hell she was, how she knew him, or anything relevant like that. And judging by her tone, she knew him well enough it would be awkward to ask, “Who the hell are you?”, as if there was a time such a thing wouldn’t be rude.

“It’s really you, right?”

Mashiba dumbly nodded, too in shock to do anything else. The strange woman’s face lit up; Mashiba swore her eyes were legitimately sparkling. Maybe it was the sun behind him. “And you remember who I am, right?” He paused, not wanting to ruin her happiness and shake his head. Her face fell as she realized.

“You don’t recognize me?” He finally shook his head, the confession making him a tinge embarrassed. The strange woman tried to brush it off, maybe to save him from getting even more embarrassed. “I… I guess I’ve changed a lot since high school- Wait! I’ve got it! One moment! Please! It won’t take more than a few seconds I promise!” So much about him being on a tight schedule. She began searching around in a bag that was thrown by the door, eventually producing a pair of reading glasses.

Crap, he wasn’t good with social situations to begin with. This on top of it? Man, he’d never complain about having to deal with his coworkers again if this situation could just get over and done with. He had to get off the balcony of this apartment as soon as possible, before he made a complete ass of himself. “Ma’am, if you could just verify you’re…” His voice trailed off when she put the glasses on and pulled her hair back with one hand. The gears in Mashiba’s mind finally clicked into place and his eyes went wide.

“Fujiwara…?” The woman’s face lit up again as she removed the glasses. Must have got it in one shot. Lucky him.

“Guess you didn’t recognize me without my glasses on! It’s me, Ta- I mean, Fujiwara Chiharu!” She seemed so happy with herself, nothing like the Fujiwara he remembered from his high school days. Maybe his memory was playing tricks on him. “I can’t believe we met up like this! How long has it been? Since high school, right?” she asked.

“Yeah. Years,” was all he could muster out. There was a pit growing in his stomach. Memories, bad ones, were flooding back to him. A bitter, acidic taste bubbled in the back of his throat. Of course, none of those bad memories were her fault, but that part of his life… Well, to put a long story short, he didn’t want to relive them any time soon.

A silence filled the air between the two, before Fujiwara let out a yelp that made Mashiba reel backwards. Dammit, warn a guy before doing that. “You’re working! Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, here I am taking up your time while you’re on the clock! I’m so sorry! But, it was really nice seeing you again, Mashiba-kun!”

With that she shut the door on his face (causing Mashiba to stand there for another thirty seconds in a mix of awe and confusion), before she sheepishly opened it again. “I… forgot about the package. Sorry.” Her head was hung down, and even though she was quite a bit shorter than him he could still see she was embarrassed. That made two of them.

The rest of the transaction went smoothly, though quietly due to a combination of his lack of social skills and her embarrassment. She bowed politely and mumbled another apology before closing the door for good. And with that, Mashiba realized as he stared at the blank white door, was the end of their reunion.

He glanced down at the delivery form. A red stamp with stylized characters partially covered her name. His brow furrowed as he read the characters underneath the red ink. That...

‘That reads… “Takata” Chiharu?’ An unfamiliar feeling hit his chest as it dawned on him. She was married. Of course. Considering how long it had been since she graduated, it wasn’t surprising. He tilted his head upwards, staring up at the cloud-filled blue sky, before deciding he had visited his past enough today. He shook off a feeling he couldn’t name, and didn’t feel like exploring, when he thought back on her.  
The Grim Reaper continued to the rest of his day job, pushing old memories to the back of his mind where they damn-well belonged. When had dwelling on the past ever helped him?

And, after all, what were the odds he’d run into her again?


	2. The Chance was High, Because This is Fanfic

If he wasn’t at work, or at the gym, or at home, the only other place Mashiba Ryou would be found: a small family diner Itagaki dragged him to after the two sparred. Itagaki was one of the few people Mashiba tolerated, although you’d never get him to admit he enjoyed the other boxer’s company. It had only started out with Itagaki offering him dirt on Makunouchi in exchange for some practice for his upcoming fight, but the two had something akin to friendship.

Oh, and Itagaki knowing where to snag a good deal didn’t hurt either.

The two had just sat down at one of the booths. Mashiba was personally glad that things were quiet at this dinner, as they had chosen a time just between the lunch and dinner rush to avoid the crowds. Nothing like a bratty kid loudly asking, “why does that man look so grumpy, mommy?” to put Mashiba in a sour mood.

Itagaki was rattling off some story involving his younger sister, Nanako, which was going in one of Mashiba’s ear and straight out the other. Itagaki was happy to talk his, or really anyone’s, ear off with whatever banal crap he wanted.

Despite how that sounded, Mashiba didn’t hate the kid. He tolerated him. If you got him drunk enough, he might even admit he had some sort of friendship with Itagaki.

“…Then Nanako shows up wearing the same thing! She told me she thought we were supposed to match at five o’clock!” Itagaki said, trying not to laugh at his family’s strange sense of humor. Mashiba said nothing, not even a twitch of his lip. If puns were illegal, the Itagaki family would be on the world’s most wanted list.

“Anyways,” Itagaki said, sitting back in the booth with his arms behind his head. “Didja know they got a new waitress here?”

“Nope,” Mashiba said.

“Yeah! She’s really, really cute too! I saw her while I was doing my roadwork the other day!” Itagaki explained. “Huh… wonder what her name is. Bet it’s something just as cute as her! I’d love to get to know her better.” While Itagaki pondered, Mashiba wondered where the hell their server was. He lazily draped one of his long arms over the back of the booth, staring blankly into space somewhere vaguely behind Itagaki’s head.

“Oh! Here she comes! Lucky us, huh?” Itagaki asked. No response from Mashiba, he didn’t even bother to look at her as she approached. Mashiba had more important things to worry about than women… like keeping Makunouchi away from Kumi. It was practically his third job.

“Hi, sorry for the wait!” Mashiba heard a woman say, right beside him. He didn’t bother to look up, because he was just that sort of antisocial jerk. “What can I get you two to drink?” she asked. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, her pulling a notepad out of her apron pocket. Other than that, he didn’t pay her any mind.

Itagaki was the first to open his mouth, a big stupid grin on his face. “It wasn’t any trouble. I’m going to have a cola float. How about you—”

“Mashiba?” both Itagaki and the waitress said in perfect harmony. It was only then that Mashiba turned his head to see, of all people, that same familiar face from his past he had all but forgotten about.

Silence filled the diner. Mashiba swore he could hear something frying in the kitchen, or maybe that was blood rushing through his ears.

Itagaki broke the silence. “What?! You two know each other?” he all but shouted.

“We, err, went to high school together,” Chiharu admitted, her cheeks tinged a pale pink. She tucked a stray lock of hair out of her face, her long hair pulled up into a bun that was slowly working itself loose, swallowing as she tried to regain her composure. “Middle school too! I think… I mean, we were only in the same class our first year of high school, but I—”

Silence once more filled the air as Mashiba, Itagaki, and Chiharu all realized Mashiba was staring at Chiharu. And Mashiba could only say one thing.

“Coffee.” He managed to spit out, after what felt like a lifetime of silence. A beat, and he specified. “Black coffee. Please.” Itagaki’s eyebrows shot up as Chiharu scribbled the order down on her notepad. _Please_? What on Earth had gotten into Mashiba Ryou, the legendary Grim Reaper of the ring? The gears in Itagaki’s terribly conniving mind began to turn, to the ignorance of either Chiharu or Mashiba.

Chiharu cleared her throat, meekly saying, “I’ll be right back,” before skittering off to the kitchen. Mashiba watched her rush to the safety of the kitchen, before slowly turning back towards Itagaki…

“What the hell is that grin for?” Mashiba demanded to know.

“What grin?” Itagaki feigned, looking off to his side and acting nonchalant.

“We went to school together. That’s. It.”

“That so?”

Mashiba glared. Most people would have run with their tail between their legs, but Itagaki stood his ground. No, worse than that, he decided he was going to _provoke_ Mashiba.

“Just asking. I was just thinking of asking for her number. Y’know, just as long as you hadn’t called dibs or anything—”

“Listen, idiot,” Mashiba said, banging his fist against the table hard enough it nearly buckled from the strain. “First off, I only just saw her again since I left school the other week, secondly, she’s—”

“Coming through!” Chiharu’s voice cut off Mashiba’s as she returned with their drinks. A plain coffee for Mashiba, and a float for Itagaki. Mashiba sat back in his seat, glaring daggers at Itagaki as he took a preliminary sip of his coffee.

With a small, almost unnoticeable fidget, Chiharu asked, “Are you both ready to order?”. She held the tray she had brought their drinks out on tucked between her arms and body. Itagaki could read her anxiety like it was written on her face.

“Nope, just the drinks for us today,” he said, smiling at her like Mashiba wasn’t stewing on the other side of the laminated wood table. “Before you go though, Miss…”

“Chiharu,” she said.

Itagaki smiled, and Mashiba did not like that smile one bit. “Chiharu-chan, are you new here?” Mashiba intensified his glare at his ‘friend’.

“Yes,” Chiharu admitted. “I started last week. I mean, this will be my first week outside of training, so I guess I started this week.” She tugged the loose lock of hair that refused to stay behind her ear, as if she could hide behind it.

“You’re doing great! Waiting on people is never easy,” Itagaki said, giving her a thumbs up. Chiharu smiled, her nerves pushed back a tiny bit. Itagaki glanced behind her, noting something. “Oh! It looks like someone’s trying to wave you down! I won’t take more of your time. Nice meeting you, Chiharu-chan!”

“Oh!” Chiharu said, almost jumping out of her skin when she saw an older patron motioning to his empty cup. “W-well, I better get back to work. Nice to meet you, Mister…”

“Itagaki, Manabu.”

“Itagaki-san,” Chiharu repeated. “And it was nice to see you again, Mashiba-kun. We should catch up sometime.” She turned and smiled at Mashiba for a moment before spinning on her heel to refill the stranger’s drink. It may have just been Mashiba’s eyes playing a trick on him, but he swore he saw her linger for a moment before she left. Must’ve been a trick, he convinced himself, as he gulped down his bitter coffee.

Itagaki was unusually quiet for the rest of their little coffee break, which annoyed the hell out of Mashiba. He had to be planning something; Mashiba didn’t trust a quiet Itagaki in the slightest. Maybe he could beat the answer out of him… though maybe that wasn’t the best way to approach things.

After they had both finished and paid, they parted, Itagaki saying goodbye and Mashiba grunting a farewell.

Mashiba took a few steps before he turned around. He had something important to mention, after all.

“Oh, by the way, you should know that she’s m—” Itagaki had vanished. Gone. And Mashiba was just wondering how the hell things could get any worse.

He was about to find out that Itagaki didn’t just have loose lips when it came to his senpai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHA I didn't mean for this to take almost year to upload. Forgive me.


End file.
